Good Town: A heartbreaking World War II tale based on a true story

Contents Preface Maps Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Acknowledgments About the Author To my father’s sister, my Brooklyn aunt, Doris Mary Wells O’Hara “a keen intellect with a chic urbane appearance” Preface When my mother was seventy-three years old in 2001, she wrote a memoir of her time growing up in Guttstadt, East Prussia—a centuries-old German territory. She came of age during the rise of Nazism and World War II and their aftermath. The stories were of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and, of course, my own mother. Many of the relatives I had met, but others I knew only from their black-and-white photographs. Those old photos hung framed in our foyer arrayed next to a woodcut of the historic crest of Guttstadt. It was a family memorial—with love and no judgment. I often thought that one day I would write a coming-of-age novel based on my mother’s memoir, but decades later when I finally started on the book, I learned something that changed its direction. I discovered that my grandfather, who once had been a local leader in the Zentrum Party and an opponent of Nazism, eventually became the Nazi government’s local agricultural leader, the Ortsbauernführer. So many questions came to mind. Why would an educated, kind, and deeply religious man—one who had actively opposed Hitler—capitulate and become a cog in the wheel of the Reich? How would he live with himself and his choice? How would he feel as his Jewish neighbors and business partners were sent to their deaths? How would a child respond to learning one thing in church and in the home and living another reality as she walked the streets of her town? What would it be like to lose brothers and sons to a war you didn’t believe in? And what would a family feel as their lives fell apart never to be the same again? Maps These maps are not intended to bemoan the loss of German territory or culture, but simply to show locations in the book and the changed geography over time. Chapter One Guttstadt, East Prussia, the German Reich June 1937 Margarete She always said yes. Even if the question wasn’t about a trip to town, Margarete answered yes. She was the agreeable child. But an errand to Guttstadt with her father offered excitement away from the daily life of school, church, and chores. Albert also jumped at the chance—though he was a boy and three years older, so his trips were more interesting and profitable. Their father would take Albert to his business meetings, which sometimes ended with an hour of gentlemanly, low-stakes card playing, and he would let Albert keep the winnings. When Albert arrived home, he would open his palm and show Margarete, who smiled in anticipation at what the pennies might bring one day. She alone knew that he tucked them away in an old sugar tin behind a beam in the barn. There the money was safe from their three bullying big brothers and three annoying baby sisters. Over time the pennies would grow into reichsmarks, and Albert said he would share the riches with her. That day, the horses’ hooves clopped against the hardened ground, providing the rhythm to nature’s orchestra where rustling crops accompanied songbirds. If they had lived in a city, they would drive an automobile and miss the sounds of summer. Instead, they traveled their usual way by horse and carriage. Margarete looked at her father, who sat with the posture of a former cavalryman and guided the horses with subtle changes of his hands. Simple signals from master to beast navigated the gleaming black landau down the road. Josef rarely used his voice to communicate directions, and he never laid a whip on them. This was true for every animal under his care, though horses were his pride and joy. A matched pair, Sonne and Mond were appropriately named as their velvety brown hides reflected the shine of the heavens, day or night. Both wore the single elk antler of a Trakehner brand on their left haunch. The giant animals strode ahead of the carriage as if they knew their place in their owner’s world and their owner’s place in the world around him. Before a train could be seen, the grinding rumble of metal began to muffle all other noise. As the carriage neared blocked railroad tracks, Josef brought the horses to a halt while a passenger train passed by. Soldiers peered out of the train windows, studying a region they had only seen on a map. An officer stood outside the final car smoking a cigarette, and he acknowledged Josef and Margarete with a polite nod. When the train passed, Herr Radau trotted out of his barn on the other side of the tracks. The Radau family scraped by farming their small parcel and operating the railroad gates. In their house, a telegraph machine alerted them to oncoming trains. Herr Radau waved at the carriage. “Guten Tag, Herr Haupt.” “Guten Tag,” Josef answered, tipping his hat. Herr Radau pressed down on the short end of the long white beam blocking the road and raised it until it was perpendicular to the tracks. When he moved to the other side’s beam, Josef commented, “It seems the gates are always closed lately.” “It’s easier these days to keep them down.” Herr Radau went about his work for a moment before he stole a glance at Josef. “The Wehrmacht is busy.” At Herr Radau’s mention of the military, Margarete looked at her father for a response. Herr Radau was the sort of man who saw things